


Through the fog of memory

by TH_Writes



Series: A Portrait [1]
Category: Tanz der Vampire - Steinman/Kunze
Genre: Do not repost, Don't copy to another side, Gen, Implied/Referenced Mind Control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:48:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22777393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TH_Writes/pseuds/TH_Writes
Summary: "Jahrelang war ich nur Ahnung in dir." Literally.Alfred met Graf von Krolock in a rainy night in Königsberg nearly a decade before they met again in Transylvania.[Can be read as non-shipping too since it's mainly Krolock creeping on innocent, vulnerable people once again]
Relationships: Alfred/Graf von Krolock (Tanz der Vampire)
Series: A Portrait [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1788403
Comments: 7
Kudos: 30





	Through the fog of memory

**Author's Note:**

> Once again a fic about Krolock and Alfred born from the exchange with the awesome Calimera!  
> A fair warning, I play with the timeline as I please here xD  
> The first part plays in the summer of 1892 (the actual historic date of the mentioned event) and the second one in December of 1901, having passed the first Nobelpreis event to keep true to the reference in the musical. It barely fits but like a cat in a small box: if it fits it sits.
> 
> Once again, this can be read as Krolock just being a vampire and creeping on innocent people.  
> Also, not beta-read. Please excuse any mistakes you find.

Alfred met him at the worst day of his 17 years old life. Huddled under the roofed side entrance of some shop, clothes wet from the sudden rain he had gotten caught in, and clutching the letter had he read so often in the last hours that he could recite it by now.  
  
"Young man." The baritone voice cut through the haze around Alfred's mind and made him flinch. It took him a second to come to his senses again before he spotted the tall figure of a man standing in the entrance of the alleyway. It had gotten dark and the light of a street lamp mixed with the rain gave the man a hazy veil that seemed to stream down his umbrella. He looked imposing and like he waited for something.  
  
"I am very sorry, sir", Alfred stuttered, thinking that he was the owner of the shop here and thought Alfred was loitering. With stiff limbs he made haste to stand, pressing his brother's letter close to himself. He barely felt the wet clothes sticking uncomfortably to his body. "I-i didn't mean to block your entr-"  
  
The stranger only lifted his hand and Alfred shut up immediately. He knew that gesture too well. Telling him to stop talking. Stop babbling. Stop being annoying. "It is not my entrance", the stranger said evenly and without any discernible judgment but with some accent Alfred couldn't pinpoint. "I merely wanted to invite you inside next door. It is no such weather to be outside. And you are drenched. You'll catch your death like this." It was an unexpected invitation to Alfred but he was distracted from it for a moment when the thought of "catching death" allured to him. To follow his sister and mother.  
  
"I see", the stranger suddenly hummed, making Alfred snap out of it. "My condolences." Had he spoken his thoughts out loud? "But your death won't be a bargain for their lost lives. I insist that you come inside now. There are only regrettable decisions to be made alone in such distress."  
  
Nothing what the stranger said sounded forceful or overly emotional. But Alfred got the sense that he was used to people doing as he said anyway. And a little voice in him wanted company to fill the hole that had been ripped into his life. He didn't want to go home to his small, lonely flat. If the man had hidden motives Alfred couldn't care less. So he followed with a shyly mumbled "thank you" to the neighbouring building.  
  
  
  
  
Krolock stayed away from the politics of his kind as often as he could. Sadly this year’s assembly of leaders couldn't been avoided. So he had dutifully travelled to Prussia at the Duchess' call and left the castle under his son’s reign for the time being. The first little mingling had showed that everything was as ever and they all had dispersed after just two hours. The actual politics would be made the following nights and the rules were as always.  
  
What wasn't as always though was the sniffing figure Krolock found in the side street of the building he was lodged in for the duration of his stay. Krolock had wanted to dismiss the figure as a homeless person seeking shelter from the rain until he heard the quiet crying. At a second look he noticed that it was a young man, too well and cleanly dressed to be homeless, and bowing over something.  
  
After just a look and a few words Krolock understood the young man's plight. He couldn't help himself but to be reminded of himself hundreds of years ago - still human and with a heart still easy to break. His heart-wrenching appearance allured to Krolock’ darker side. The side that loved to corrupt the innocent youth of humans crossing his path. And so he invited the man inside to get him out of the rain at least and see if there was any interesting company to be won with him.  
  
It was a terrible idea and toed the line of the Duchess’ rules. But despite not being allowed to bite someone in another vampire's territory without permission nobody could berate Krolock for some company - and it wasn't like he would be the only one to do so anyway. That the human followed without much fuss was satisfying to witness.  
  
Inside the lit hallway Krolock noticed that the young man was still more boy than man. Probably not older than 18 years if at all. Drenched from head to toe and looking miserable Krolock wondered if he lived alone. Or if someone just didn't care for him to let him roam the streets in such a state. Though despite his state he carried the softness of innocence and a well-protected life. His presence beside Krolock felt like a small flame in the vastness of darkness - alluring to those who yearned for the light and warmth of the fire.  
  
Katharina, the human servant of the house, handled her surprise well when she spotted the human with Krolock. Getting her priorities sorted right away she listened to what happened - a mourning boy caught in the rain - and then decided to first prepare a bath. The boy had no chance against her soft but firm insistence with which she bullied him up the stairs to the bathroom. He walked all stiff and with hunched shoulders. Krolock let the two be.  
  
Ten minutes later Katharina came into the library where Krolock had seated himself in an armchair by the fire. "His name is Alfred. He's 17.", she informed him with a blank face born from displeasure. Krolock wondered if this was a particular Prussian thing for women to do since the Duchess tended to do the same. He had seen many a man cower under such a face or stand straighter. "You know the rules." She wasn't naive enough to believe in Krolock's good heart as reason for offering Alfred shelter, and she knew that although she was only a human, that she also had an authorized position as keeper of order when guests resided here. The Prussian Duchess trusted her without doubt and going against Katharina would mean to go against the Prussian Duchess.  
  
"That I do", Krolock affirmed.  
  
"I will burn a cross in your skin if not", she reinforced her warning.  
  
"God is dead", Krolock only responded.  
  
"And we have killed him", she finished the quote without hesitation. "Yet you remain so fearful of His symbols. You're making a fool of yourself, my Lord. Nietzsche never meant it as triumphant cheer and you clearly missed that. You're just proof of his proclaimed tragedy." With that cold opinion she turned and walked away. Most likely to do things to take care of Alfred further. Krolock gritted his teeth. He saw why the Prussian Duchess loved Katharina enough to not have turned her yet. Katharina as vampire would be too vicious for anyone to survive.  
  
Alfred came into the library nearly an hour later. Katharina had evidently managed to dig up some soft linen shirt and trousers, a pair of woollen socks and an old, knitted jacket. Nothing fit very well, a little too big here and there, but Alfred didn't seem to mind. His hair was nearly dry and fell softly. He still clutched the letter and only looked better in appearance than spirit.  
  
He looked lost, in shambles. Left alone and adrift, and trying to find a shore to let anchor. Probably any shore would do and Krolock thought that this sentiment was a shame for someone who had still every opportunity in life. And in a way, it maybe was Krolock's luck. That depended on how the evening and night would progress. He had given into his impulse of mild interest and hoped he wouldn't regret it.  
  
"Katharina took care of you?", he asked.  
  
"Yes, Your Excellency", Alfred replied quietly. So Katharina had told him something more while feeding him. Krolock hummed in acknowledgement.  
  
"Would you mind keeping me company for a while?"  
  
  
  
  
Alfred was torn between staring at the Count from Transylvania (as Katharina had told him) and just wanting to shut his eyes against this day. Torn between wanting to be left alone to wallow in his pain and wishing for company to distract him from how lonely he felt all of a sudden. But he could hardly say no to the man at whose orders he was taken care of. So Alfred shook his head and stiffly seated himself in the second armchair of the set.  
  
"Thank you for your kindness", Alfred said. "I-i just don't know how to repay you for it." There was always a price to kindness as far as Alfred knew. His sister Anna had been such a bold statement against this rule of their lives - and now it had killed her.  
  
"You do not have to. It is hard to lose somebody and it helps nobody to be alone after such tragic news." It wasn’t more than a simple statement and yet it felt good to hear. "Do you have family or friends here that can take care of you?"  
  
"No", Alfred admitted and, used to defending his family every time he talked about this to someone, hastily added: "My family lived here until two years ago but then they moved for father's work to Hamburg. I was supposed to finish school here and follow but then I was accepted at the university and..." Alfred bit his tongue. He was rambling again. "I only have a small flat where I live alone until I can move into the boarding houses of the university."  
  
"I see", the Count hummed. "Then feel invited to stay the night." Alfred perked up, ready to argue that the Count had done enough for him already and that he could hardly take up such an offer. But the Count only looked at him and suddenly Alfred lost all will to argue. He could practically feel the anxious energy leave his body while he stared into the mesmerizing eyes of the Count.  
  
"Th-thank you, Your Excellency", he stammered instead and the Count bowed his head at him before releasing him from the bewitching gaze. Alfred sank into the armchair, feeling a little confused and dazed. He looked down at the letter in his lap.  
  
"It was the Cholera", he quietly said. Feeling like offering more details could in any way show his thankfulness and maybe even start to pay back the care somehow. "The-the recent outbreak in Hamburg." The Count's eyes lay on him once again.  
  
Out of the corner of his own eyes Alfred recognized that he had the allure of aristocracy. Old-fashioned but finely made clothes. A handsome face, pale from spending little time outside. Contrasting dark and deep eyes, and long, black hair that showed a few streaks of grey already. A man to get what he wanted naturally and to get away with more.  
  
"I'm sorry to hear this. As I understand it this epidemic came very unexpected." Alfred could only nod, his thoughts unwillingly lulling for a moment but then the pain broke sharply through this haze. He didn’t notice the Count supressing the flinch beside him.  
  
"I-i can't even go to their funerals!", he then blurted out and his vision started to swim again. With shaking hands he whipped harshly over his eyes, telling himself to not act like a child in front of the Count. But he also felt urged to get it all out now or he would choke on it. "My mother and older sister they..." Tears now seriously threatened to spill out of Alfred's eyes and his body started to shake. "They only wanted to help. Anna had started to teach in the poor districts in her free time. Mother would sometimes bring food. Though Anna had studied Koch's work it had been too late when it started. They had already been infected." Now the tears spilled out of him.  
  
A hand settled on his arm as he hiccupped apologies for his behaviour. "My dear boy", the Count soothed, "don't be ashamed of your feelings. You experience immense loss right now and I won't deny you that. The only way out is through. I am sure you have heard that saying before." Once again he offered only a few sentences but it did all the difference for Alfred. What his father had always called "senseless emotionality" and had tried to raise out of him was accepted in the eyes of the Count. "Tell me of them. If it helps you."  
  
He told him about Anna then. How she was the most intelligent, gentle woman he had ever known and how brave she always had been. How she had always wanted to do the right thing. How she would barely ever scold or judge him like the rest of his family did. How she had always had his back and was the reason why he even had been allowed to stay behind. And how she was the reason he had managed to get accepted at the university because she always studied with him.  
  
"She died doing what she loved. She died for helping others", Alfred sniffed. "And mother had just wanted to support her in it."  
  
"Tragic deaths indeed", the Count commented. Something about it rubbed Alfred in a wrong way though. Something about it sounded like his father and older brother who would look with pity on aspiring or gentle women. In his shaken, hurt condition he angrily huffed back without filtering:  
  
"Is it? Or is it only tragic because they're women?"  
  
"Pardon?" The Count blinked and under every other circumstances Alfred would have shut up and apologized for his rudeness. But his sister and mother were dead and he wouldn't stand for such a disrespecting opinion to their deaths. Anna had told him that she hated the prevailing notions about women but that she had to pick her battles carefully. Alfred picked this one now because she couldn't anymore and because he had lost his sense of manners for the moment.  
  
"When men die helping others we call their deaths of noble nature. If a woman does we say it is tragic. Like they're not able to be noble. As if they were unable to even have noble notions because they only help because they can't help themselves. Because they are not able of conscious thought and decision. By calling a woman's death from helping others tragic we say that we take their help for granted. And by calling a man noble for the same reasons we state that a man's help has to be received with exceptional gratitude because we don’t have it in us to help out of sympathy."  
  
There was a moment of deep silence. Alfred dared to look at the Count whose face held a barely noticeable notions of surprise. And that was when Alfred truly realized his rudeness in barking at the Count who only tried to help him. Before he could open his mouth to apologize profusely for this behaviour, the Count spoke calmly.  
  
"I haven't thought about it that way", he admitted. "It's a good point to raise and I can't remember an instance to diffuse this habit. Though I question if there isn't a certain truth in either notion." With halted breath Alfred waited if the Count would scold him now but when nothing came, Alfred felt braver when he answered quietly:  
  
"I don't believe either mind set to be true. I think men can help out of sympathy and that women can chose not to help. I think the use of 'tragic' or 'noble' should always depend on circumstances. My mother's death can be called tragic because she was only exposed to the disease due to helping Anna. But Anna died noble. Because she believed that she needed to use her privilege to help others and that's why she was there. Even if it made father inconsolably angry with her."  
  
Something akin to a smile flitted over the Count's lips. Alfred wasn't sure due to what. "You're an intelligent young man, Alfred. I am sure your sister is proud that you made it to the university."  
  
"She was. And I won't disappoint her now." A determined look settled on Alfred's face that was replaced by a small smile when he remembered her last letter. "She had admonished me to not read all the books in the library before the start of my studies or I wouldn't manage to find something interesting to do during my studies. I had written her all the books I had read already."  
  
"Which were?", the Count asked and Alfred launched into his mental list. Thankful for the distraction.  
  
  
  
  
They talked for hours after that. Krolock found Alfred to be a surprisingly pleasant conversation partner despite the younger man sometimes needing a minute (or some help) to compose himself again after memories or pain overwhelmed him. Alfred had a broad basic knowledge and curiosity aplenty. The brightness of his usual character started to show when they debated about topics from philosophy to fiction to science. The small flame in the dark growing, pulsing. Baiting the monsters of the dark to come closer.  
  
It was a circumstance to be lamented that Krolock couldn't do anything while here in Königsberg, for the young Alfred intrigued him. At the same time it maybe proved to be better. It gave Krolock a few years at least to see what would become of Alfred. In which direction his life would go after such an immense family loss and with university looming over his shoulder. If he would keep the alluring innocence every one of his answers portrayed so beautifully.  
  
So Krolock didn't stop Alfred from sleeping in at half past three in the morning. He had sunken into the corner of the armchair, his chin nearly hitting his chest as he had sunken low in his exhausted state. Strands of hair tickled against his eyebrows. An innocent, wounded angel trustfully sleeping in the presence of a demon.  
  
Krolock stood up silently. He would make sure that Alfred would eventually return to him. If just for Krolock to satiate his curiosity about the young man's future. He had Alfred's trust, his wide-eyed curiosity and thankfulness. And it was so easy to gain since the young man hadn't gotten much attention or been taken serious in his life. An easy victim and one Krolock hoped to develop in his favour.  
  
He stepped over to Alfred. His finger stroked light as a feather over Alfred's jaw and then down his neck where his pulse could be felt. Alfred shuddered tellingly in his sleep and drew an anticipating breath. Krolock smiled smugly.  
  
"Your soul will be mine", he promised in a whisper. Eventually Alfred would find back to him. He may would forget this night due to his mourning-induced dazed state of mind. But the seed of curiosity and longing had been sown. Now it needed time to grow. And if Krolock had something then it was time.  
  
  
  
  
The curious thing about mourning was that time blended and vanished without control. Alfred only seemed to come truly to some senses nearly two weeks later. The night spend at the mysterious Count's house seemed only to exist as a shadow play in his dreams. During the day it existed as a vague feeling of missing something or in the darkest hours of the night even like a terrifyingly strong longing for something he couldn’t name.  
  
Soon Alfred told himself that it must have been nothing but a daydream he had fled in as response to the trauma - dreaming himself in a place where a handsome, foreign nobleman would have sympathy for him and find entertainment in talking to him. Having lost the only person that made him feel accepted it would be a typical reaction of him to look for protection in his daydream worlds of childhood.  
  
With vigour he threw himself into studying in memory of Anna who never had been able to. And into work in memory of his mother who would have wanted him to stand on his own two feet. He didn't want to ask his father and brother for support they needed themselves. So he tried to look forward and the phantom of his dreams soon became a vanishing afterthought he took in stride every night and never lost a word about to anyone.  
  
The mysterious Count became a figure of confusing dreams filled with wishes, longing and the urge of fulfilment. The night spend together was lost in the fog of time that eventually swallowed all memories to be concealed until something awoke them again.  
  
  
**9 years later**  
  
  
Alfred didn't like how eager he had accepted Professor Abronsius' plan to travel to Transylvania. Though he always did as the Professor wanted, Alfred had agreed much more enthusiastically than usual this time. He had only heard "Transylvania" and his heart had jumped up his throat like he got the biggest and best Christmas present. Even when they were well on their way to the rural parts of the country Alfred was still puzzled by this.  
  
His confusion didn't got better when he found an envelope on his pillow case while staying in an inn. It was their last day in an actual city before Professor Abronsius planned to leave for the deeply rural sides of Transylvania. Alfred packed their things while the Professor paid for their rooms downstairs. The envelope laid there, on his pillow, and at first Alfred had thought that it must be for the Professor. Because who would even write him.  
  
To his shock though it was his first name on the envelope, written in a golden and most elegant font. A weird feeling of anticipation settled in his body as if his subconscious knew something Alfred didn't. Inside was a dark red invitation card with a golden border and the same elegant writing as on the envelope also in gold.  
  
"You are invited to the Mitternachtsball on the 21st December 1901 at Schloss Krolock by his Excellency Count von Krolock", Alfred read under his breath to himself.  
  
"Count von Krolock?", Alfred repeated, confused. That name...trying to find a memory connected to that was like trying to locate an echo in thick fog. So why did his heart beat so fast when he couldn't remember who that was? Surely he would remember knowing a nobleman!  
  
Steps down the corridor made him jump and hastily Alfred placed the card back in the envelope and that in his personal notebook. He didn't need questions about something he himself didn't have answers to.  
  
Professor Abronsius opened the door and told him to hurry packing for he had found them a ride to a village over. With that all thoughts about the invitation were pushed aside and soon - at the back of a sled - Alfred decided that it must have been some switch up that the envelope had landed with him. Maybe it was supposed to get to some other Alfred that also had lodged in the inn. Which was the most unfortunate giving that Alfred now possessed the card. Hopefully this Count wouldn't be too angry with his expected guest should the latter not arrive.  
  
The incident was fully forgotten when Alfred and the Professor finally reached a village in which there were signs of a vampire living nearby. The Professor immediately dug his metaphorical teeth into the metaphorical meat, observing and questioning. Alfred, though he did try his best to follow and help the Professor, was distracted by the most loveable young woman he had ever seen: Sarah Chagal.  
  
  
  
  
It happened so fast. Alfred yelling in alarm for Professor Abronsius when he saw someone in the bathroom with Sarah. The Chagals were beside themselves in fear and the Professor in eagerness. It pressed forward once they all had returned to their beds. Once the panic had calmed down, once the Professor was satisfied with what he could and couldn't find in the bathroom. And once Alfred was reassured that Sarah was safe in her room, his mind pushed once more the images of what he had seen to the forefront.  
  
Behind his closed eyes Alfred could observe what details he remembered from the split, shocking second of spying a stranger in the bathroom with a defenceless Sarah. The long, black coat. The clothes: old-fashioned but still made from fine, expensive material. The pale, long-fingered hand that had reached towards Sarah. The ends of some strands of long, black hair that had fallen forward.  
  
Just like with the invitation incident something tried to reach for Alfred from the depths of repressed memories. It was like the call of a wolf that echoed through snow laden trees in the night. Alfred had no idea from which direction it came and he could hear no footsteps nearing due to the high blanket of snow. But it made a shiver run down his spine and his mind startle into attention.  
  
Alfred groaned and turned around on the chairs that he had pushed together as his bed, trying not to move one of them out of position. Behind his closed eyelids there seemed to be shadows playing out something – a scene maybe. But he couldn’t hear what was spoken nor see where it played or who was involved. When he finally found restless sleep a feeling bubbled up in his gut and moved like molasses through his chest. Something that stole his breath. Or more accurate: something that made him hold his breath in anticipation but he didn’t knew for what.  
  
When he was startled out of his sleep by someone calling in front of the inn he could feel a headache coming. When he finally managed to get up and look out the window he saw Sarah running away.  
  
  
  
  
A day (or better, night) later they stood before a castle they had followed a vampire Chagal to and Alfred wondered who would live in such a threatening building. It looked old and the stones were weathered dark over the centuries the castle had stood here. How it loomed even darker than the night against the sky made a shiver run down Alfred's spine. It didn't even look inhabited at first before Alfred noticed some stray windows being lightened up. Somebody had noticed that they were here.  
  
"Where is your mind, boy?", the voice of Professor Abronsius pulled him back to the reality of the cold Transylvanian night. "I said you should try open the gate. See if someone is home."  
  
"I think Professor..." But the Professor gave him an impatient look and Alfred went closer to the big iron gate. He could see nothing but blackness behind the bars and nothing moving. Alfred turned to look questioningly at Professor Abronsius who made brusque hand gestures at him. With a sigh Alfred squatted down to see if he could maybe lift the iron gate up due to it's age. But it wouldn't budge.  
  
Just when Alfred turned around to the Professor, a jerk went through the gate. It's old mechanism rumbled as it was lifted up by someone they couldn't see. In shock and fear Alfred instinctively jumped back and was tried to run and hide behind the Professor when...  
  
Something gave away for a split second in Alfred’s mind. For a moment he remembered a rainy night in Königsberg. A library. Mesmerizing eyes and the first streaks of grey in black hair. A hand reassuringly on his arm. And the phantom feeling of a finger travelling down his neck. Then all seemed to be clouded again. A headache pounded behind Alfred’s forehead.

The man before him looked intensely at him and a subtle smile grazed his aristocratic features. “Welcome at my castle, gentlemen”, he greeted and at his baritone voice something sighed relieved inside Alfred. His hand subconsciously rubbed his neck where the feeling of a remembered touch lingered. Mesmerizing eyes caught Alfred’s. “I am delighted to see that we have guests. Please, don’t be shy and come inside. It’s no weather to be outside.”  
  
At the glint in his eyes Alfred suddenly knew that somehow this man had all the answers to the questions that plagued him since he had started this travel to Transylvania. And yet he felt dread like he had walked straight into a trap. He was terrified when he realised that something in him didn’t mind.

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, that leaves a lot open, doesn't it? xD  
> Anyway, somehow I can't get around to make the "candle/flame in the darkness" reference everytime, can I?  
> Also the unconscious reference to my other fic about wolves howling in a snowed in forest bahahah xD
> 
> I hoped you like it!  
> And have a nice day,  
> Your TH_Writes


End file.
